


Long Day, Longer Nights

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: A long afternoon stuck in the Council's chambers would throw anybody off. When Ignis and Noctis are finally allowed to leave, Ignis is shocked by just how far behind the clock Lucian politics sets him.





	Long Day, Longer Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aithilin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/gifts).



> Another lil' slice of life [prompt fill](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/183193786347/seasonal-changes-ignis-goes-into-a-meeting-with) for [Aithilin!](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/)

“It’s the fundamental law of equivalent exchange…”

“This is a lawmaker’s council, Thandalus, not a philosophy seminar.”

“The principle still applies! This tax _insures_ Insomnian citizens by having them pay into the military fund in order for them to pay back with better protection of the Wall.”

“That military will have nothing to protect if the people are impoverished to the point of starvation paying for _your_ tax!”

Parrots of equal dissent crowed up from the other councilors, rallying yet another crazed cacophony of clashing voices to beat against the chamber walls like a prisoner begging to escape his cell. That was certainly how Ignis felt, bound to his seat until the mercy of the clock deemed him fit to rejoin society. After enduring the tortures of Lucian politics for the past three hours, he thought his emancipation was more than deserved.

Beside him, Noctis was just as anxious to escape, his impatience throbbing off of him like a headache Ignis could feel from outside of his own skull. They were only there to observe for the day, secluded in the corner of the room like unwelcomed children at a holiday dinner. They were designated to the “be seen, not heard” chairs, so they didn’t disrupt the “grown-ups” acting more like children than either of them were.

Noctis tapped his phone against his thigh, screen winking on and off in his relentless desperation to see the digital clock move forward. Ordinarily, Ignis might chide him for fidgeting while amongst esteemed company, but today, more than most, Ignis couldn’t begrudge him. And it wasn’t as if a single member of the King’s Council paid either of them any attention, certainly not enough to notice – or care about – their Prince’s malaise.

They barely even noticed the King himself, drumming his fingers against the table with increasing irritation. His eyes had been fixed to his watch for the past ten minutes, letting the contending councilors debate themselves hoarse. At this point in the proceedings, he was just running the clock. And at long, _long_ last, their time _finally_ ran out.

Without even a glance at Clarus, the King’s Shield barked out an order to silence the table. “Councilors,” Regis sighed. “We must table this debate for another day. The Council is no longer in session. Everyone have a pleasant evening.”

It was a recorded dismissal; Ignis and Noctis both knew that the last thing King Regis wished was for his councilors to have a _pleasant_ evening, after having to suffer their unpleasantness all afternoon.

The chamber emptied with a steady leak of disgruntled murmurings. The debate would continue all the way down to the parking garage, not stopping until the car doors slammed and returned them to their corners. And even _then_ , the allure of social media beckoned to validate their argument with a thousand politically-charged strangers with nothing to do on a Friday night.

Fortunately, he and Noctis _did_ have something to do. And after that circus of political contention, Ignis was desperately looking forward to it.

“I don’t know if I’m going to make it to the throne,” Noctis was saying, dragging both hands down his face as if he could pull his headache off like a mask. “I’m going to have a break with reality and be convicted for murder long before Dad’s ready to step down from it.”

“If your father has made it this long without his own name in the papers, so too can you.”

“I’m not my father, Specs. The second I’m King, I’m demanding a purge. I bet just the two of us would make more progress in a day than fifteen councilors do in a year.”

Ignis tried not to let Noct’s confidence in him go to his head. It was simple enough to _say_ running a country could be easier. In practice though – as evidenced by today’s trials – the inner workings of the Lucian monarchy were much more difficult to grease. Progress never did come quietly, nor without a fight.

“We have a long way to go until that day,” Ignis assured him. “For now, let’s table all talk of politics. It’s been a long day. And we have dinner reservations.”

“Hell yes,” Noctis purred, darting towards the elevators with renewed vigor. “There’s a bowl of ramen with my name on it. And you’re treating this time, Specs!”

They bundled into the elevator after all the other councilors had crowded in angry batches down to the garage. They had a box to themselves by the time Noctis punched the numbers in. The silence inside was a blissful reprieve from the hours of intolerant shouting that soured the evening. Once the elevator doors hummed shut, and it was just the two of them, Ignis and Noctis both sagged against each other.

Noctis laced his hand through Iggy’s, leaning against his arm and resting his head on his shoulder. It felt heavy, like Noctis didn’t have the strength to hold it up anymore. Ignis shifted just slightly to accommodate him, bracing gently to take the brunt of his weight. Noctis breathed out, long and slow, all of the tension deflating out of him in one drained gust. It had been a long day, indeed. Longer than usual, it felt like.

It was only when the windows of the elevator slid down the Citadel expanse to frame the outside world that Ignis understood why.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“What?”

Beyond the slowly descending elevator walls, Insomnia was as dark as brushed velvet. Night warped through the Wall in gentle rivulets of violet and blue, undulating over the inky shadows of the skyscrapers like a city underwater. The electric stars of a thousand apartment windows, lit up against the darkness, glittered for miles beneath them. The spider’s threads of streetlamps winked drowsily along the highways, the absent hiss of late night traffic sleepwalking beneath them.

“The meeting must have run longer than I anticipated,” Ignis said, tongue clicking against his teeth. “We must have missed our reservation by now. I’m sorry, Noct.”

Noctis raised his head from his shoulder, brows forming into a frown. “No, we haven’t missed it. It’s not even six o’ clock yet, Specs.”

It was Ignis’s turn to frown, fishing through his pockets for his phone to confirm the time. Noctis was right. It was only five thirty. And yet, it looked like midnight had descended across the city already. He squinted beyond the long windows, trying to understand why it was so dark. Then, the faintest flurries of snow _tinked_ against the glass, and he felt tired all over again.

“Ah. Right. I’d forgotten.”

“Haven’t adjusted to the longer nights yet, huh?” Noct’s lips pursed in amusement, rubbing Ignis’s arm in consolation. “Or do these meetings really get to you that much?”

“Both,” Ignis chuckled.

He took off his glasses to rub the tiredness from his eyes, laughing at himself for the mistake. He was usually better at keeping the changing time of the seasons, as well keeping time in general. He’d remembered to change his alarm clock earlier in the week. He’d remember to change all of Noct’s, too. But he supposed being isolated in a stagnant conference room that smelled like stale coffee and body odor would make walking out into complete darkness a little jarring.

“Happens to the best of us, Specs,” Noctis teased, replacing his head on his shoulder for the rest of the ride down. “Who knows? Maybe the restaurant forgot too, and we can get a deal on a midnight special.”

“Very funny.”

Noctis laughed to himself, but it was weighted with exhaustion, rolling heavily against Iggy’s shoulder. He nestled against his side, watching the city slip by, the buildings growing taller as their elevator slid lower. Fog haunted the edges of the glass as the fragmented snowflakes tapped against it, warning the occupants of the temperature change which came in the change of time. The cold would no doubt be a shock after the warm, quiet confines of the elevator, with Noctis tugged snugly against him, like a blanket to hide beneath.

These sit-in meetings were always long, but the elevator ride home was always far too short for Ignis’s liking. They had the whole city beneath them during this brief slide of time, safe from the cold in their little compartment, unseen by the whole world while they could see everything themselves. It really did look like all the problems of Insomnia were much simpler to solve from up that high, in the quiet, in the dark.

He hoped that the ire of the King’s Council might hibernate for the winter. Ignis was certainly ready to. And by the time the elevator reached the ground floor, he thought that Noctis already had.

“Are you sure you still want to go to dinner?” Ignis chuckled, nudging Noctis gently from his contented place against him.

“Definitely,” Noctis yawned. “Can’t let the time change throw us off that far. And besides, you and I deserve a date night after all that.”

He waved upwards at the Citadel, suppressing the urge to throw a rude gesture up with it. Ignis was hard-pressed to disagree with him. It was going to be a long winter. But so long as Noctis stayed warm by his side, at least it wouldn’t be a cold one.


End file.
